the edges of myself

words, words, words

I’ve closed my heart before locked it tightly– buried the key beneath layers of shoulds and coulds and woulds   I’ve watched myself walk away treading carefully, moving backwards longing for an explanation some semblance of the truth   I’ve understood the sting of rejection– internalized its pointy edges, embracing their lessons along with the …

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i love it when you call me baby   it breaks my heart wide open and spills it on the ground and wraps me up in an understanding that needs nothing more than your silent smile and gentle, responsive hands   i love it when behind your eyes i see the sparkle of your boy– …

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April 19, 2013

your hands possess a

knowledge your mind cannot touch

blanketing my fear

You, who will drop everything for a friend, or even an acquaintance– set aside your plans or desires without even the slightest look back– or thought for SELF.   She has taught you a very lopsided version of boundaries– barriers perhaps is a better word– walls which are programmed to spring into action when the …

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Today you brought me soup. It was perfect, although its precision had nothing to do with the gift and everything– with the giver. Stretched out across a lazy afternoon, fingers running along the lines of your face– through your hair. my honey-coated throat– happier with you here. The sunshine poking its rays through my window …

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Revealing myself fully– pulling back the curtain– surreptitiously pulled tight so many years ago– the reasons scattered around amidst the dust bunnies and dead flies. here i am. this is me. a little silly, perhaps. ¬†and maybe overzealous at times– but who could have it any other way? I wonder is it who we are– …

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